The Next Test
by misk
Summary: This begins where Lady Knight left off. I swear this is NOT a Kel-Dom story.
1. To Queenscove

Keladry of Mindelan calmly surveyed the lush green countryside around her contentedly. Kel was still quite surprised that she wasn't headed for Traitors Hill, but on the road for Neal's wedding to Yukimi. The lady knight smiled. It was a pleasant surprise.

'Ah! The Yamini Lump can smile! Who would have thought!' Neal bounded up to her (he managed to bound, even on a horse). Always frivolous, the green eyed man had been exceedingly silly in the past few days. Kel put it down to nerves, or rather his lack of them

'I was just wondering, my dear Neal, if Yuki, had informed you of the Yamini custom of bridegrooms walking across hot coals, to reach the dais where vows are said?' Kel raised inquisitive innocent eyebrows. 'To prove your devotion.'

Neal looked a tad flustered. 'Ah, no Kel, this is Tortall. Yamini customs don't apply here.'

'That as may be, you have a Yamini bride. Yuki will expect it of you. I've no doubt she'll be very insulted if you refuse,' Kel nodded thoughtfully. 'Indeed it would shame her. She may even call off the wedding.'

Neal, now looking very panicked, and quite bewildered, started several sentences in a high squeaky voice. Kel could stand it no longer. She leaned over in her saddle and laughed so hard and long that when she straightened, Neal was many horselengths ahead of her along the country road, and judging by the curve of his back, highly affronted.

'Teach him to tease a sweet young maiden. The audacity of young Sir Meathead.' Dom clucked his tongue mock disapprovingly, with a wicked gleam in his eye.

'You're just as bad. Neal is right, you're like a dog with a bone with that name.' Kel chided, ignoring the fact that she had, on more than a few occasions used 'Meathead' to refer to Neal. It suited him so perfectly. The pair rode together in companionable silence.

The troupe heading for Queenscove was a large one, and had been traveling at a gentle pace for a nearly day. King Jonathon and Queen Thayet were among the future attendants of Neal's wedding. They came to demonstrate their support for the first union in marriage of a Yamini and a Tortallan- even Shinko and Roald were not wedded yet. For despite royal support, many conservatives, while keen for the Yamini alliance, grumbled incessantly about Prince Roald marrying the savage Shinkokami. Needless to say the Tortallan aristocracy did not greet Princess Shinko, face to the ground, as was a real custom among her people. The conservatives were purple faced and spluttering, near having apoplexies when they were informed of the Neal-Yukimi match.

'Kel, ah…'

'Hhhmm?'

'Well you see Kel. At Neal's wedding, we'll need ah… partners… for dancing… and… stuff…' Dom trailed off into an awkward silence.

Kel hid her emotions behind a Yamini mask. Amusement was the key feeling, but apprehension too. She hadn't had these sort of relations with any men since Cleon. But this was Dom. Just a friend. _Cleon__ was once just a friend._ Kel ignored that silly voice and told Dom; 'If your asking me to accompany you to the wedding-thingys,' Dom turned his blushing head to Kel, with an expression akin to Jump's when sensing a bone might be on the menu. 'The answers yes.'

Dom's grin was very wide. 'Allrighty then, Kel.'


	2. Dom's Welcoming

You told me Dom was smooth, too true. I will _try_ and fix it.

Dom licked his lips, and shifted skittishly in his saddle. He was quite giddy; Kel had said yes! Dom savoured the warmth inside him as he thought back to the moment she had agreed. It was pure pleasure. Kel was not just any other girl- and these were not just his thoughts because of the way she made his heart thump, no his Kel was the Lady Knight Keladry. She was marvelous…Kel cared for people and truly wanted to protect and help them. She was strong, not one of the abundance of weak willed mice in the Corus court. Kel was not a fair beauty, but her face was a treasure to Dom, full of peace and ideals. _Oh no what if I bungle myself…I've never bungled myself! ..._ _ In truth I've never acted in such an oafish embarrassing manner around a woman since I was twelve. What is wrong with me!?. _He cursed himself. _I hope she thought endearing and sweet…ouue_ Dom cringed at the memory.

The Queenscove line was as old as that of Contė, and had a castle reaching back through the ages to match. The residence of the Queenscove nobility was more a fortress than a castle of the gentry. It was not an elegant structure; constructed of a harsh grey stone Tortal's mines had long ago stopped producing, it was clumsy and awkward, without an ounce of grace. There were gorges in the land so old, there was no scroll or tapestry that depicted the Keep without it. Queenscove Keep had been designed and built to withstand sieges, and withstand sieges it had. Dom stopped to admire his home appreciatively. _Yes, this is home, much as sleeping under trees with the Own is more comfortable. _Dom's mother had given his raising over to her elder brother, Baird. Dom had been eight, and had stayed at Queenscove until he had left at sixteen for Corus and the Own.

'Domitan!' A high pitched voice all but screeched his name, not with joy but with severe unfaltering disapproval. Said man turned slowly, his face intending to hold a winning smile, but showing as a baring of his teeth in a grimace of pain and foreboding. A grey wizened old woman in her mid-forties- the source of his displeasure, came marching to meet her son. Marita of (Hey, where _is_ Dom from?) was very thin and short, appearing even more so because of a stoop in her shoulders. She carried a carved and jeweled walking-cane and brandished it alternately as a sceptre and a weapon. Dom's heart sank as he recognised the expression on her face. Mother would demand hours, maybe days with her youngest son. It would take much cunning to worm his way out of what Marita felt as her due attention.

'Why have you not come to visit your poor doddering old mother in the years she needs you?' Her voice was lathered with self-pity 'After all I have done for you, I'd like to think you would stop gallivanting off in the countryside for a few-'

Dom cut off the litany he knew by heart with a swooping bow. 'Mother!' he exclaimed as if nothing could have pleased him more. 'I'm simply overwhelmed to see you again!'

'Is that so, boy? Well then-'

'I have just had the most splendid idea! The Prince Roald has told me many a time of his desire to meet you.' Roald had said nothing of the sort, but he and Dom had become friends over the last few days, and Dom felt no twinge of conscience at latching his mother to Roald's side. 'Why, we should go at once to introduce you to him.' Marita looked quite pleased at the prospect of meeting the heir of the throne.

'The Prince, you say? Hhmm… alright then Domitan. You will escort me to the keep, and then to Prince Roald. She nodded, pleased with herself.

Dom did just that. Roald had given him a venomous glare- he had heard the stories of The Dragon inhabiting Queenscove Keep. Once Marita had been distracted Dom inched away, and out into the hall. He then remembered why Queenscove was the beloved home of his childhood; his mother had been absent from the scene. Reminiscing of the past Dom did not notice another man striding the corridor. The other had stopped and stood in an aggressive stance. Dom didn't see him, and nearly walked into him.

'Sorry, there. I wasn't paying attention.' Dom had dropped his pompous-ass manner, after leaving his mother.

'It's fine.' The man grated out, as if the words hurt him to say. 'I was seeking you, this has saved me some trouble.'

'Well what can I do for you?' Dom offered with open friendliness, despite having not an inkling as to who this stranger was, nor what he wanted.

'I am Cleon of Kennan.' A light kindled behind Dom's eyes. _Cleon__._


	3. Cleon's Appearance

Cleon had changed in the year since had he stood with Keladry on the stormy night outside the nameless inn. Once upon a time Cleon would never dreamed of interfering to this effect, with the life of the girl he had shared clinging kisses with, no matter what happened. The smiling light in his face had disappeared leaving only grim practicality. There was no happiness in life anymore; Cleon was now a knight bound to his lands, wedded to a woman he did not care for, and was to be forever deprived of his love. The last blow hit him hardest of all. The red-haired boy who proclaimed love for his 'pearl-drop' and 'light of his life' had been erased and replaced with a hard, stony man, devoid of compassion.

Dom saw only Kel's first love, the one who had stood in Kel's heart, and, perhaps still did.

'I understand, Dom,' Cleon made clear his contempt for Dom in the scorning of his name. 'That you intend to accompany Kel to the wedding celebrations.'

'Yes, I do.' All joy at managing to escape his mother had evaporated.

Cleon was a married man, yet his heart was for Kel, and that would never change. 'I want you to understand, Dom, that I will have _nobody_ touch her. _Leave her be_.' Cleon leered menacingly at the shorter man, towering over him.

'Cleon, Kel is a woman grown, and with whom she attends balls and the like with, is none of your concern.' Dom had not dropped his affable manner, though it now had an edge to it.

'This is where you are mistaken, _Kel is **all** my concern_.' Cleon's voice was such that if he'd threatened to pluck chickens it would have sounded sinister.

"I fail to make the connection. Thus, I will ignore you.' Dom might not have been certain of Kel's affection, but he knew she would never again be with Cleon. Dom made a move to pass, Cleon moved to stand in his way.

'Dom, what I want from you, and what I will have by any means necessary-'

Cleon's overly dramatic speech was cut off with calls of 'Cleon! Yoo-Hoo! Where are you! I need help!' A dark skinned, curly haired woman poked her head out of a nearby chamber. 'Ah! There you are!' The woman seemed very excitable. And when she stepped out into the corridor, Dom saw she was very pregnant. 'Hel-lo there, Friend-Of-My-Dear-Husband! I am Cleon's oh so gracious wife Carrillo! "Friend-Of-My-Dear-Husband" might get tiring after a time, so, by what then, may I call you?'

Dom grinned at Cleon, whose face had gone as red as his hair. Cleon had sulky expression, and had shrunk in on himself in the presence of his exuberant wife.

'I am Domitan, my lady, I'm afraid I must leave, to help my cousin Neal with the preparations. Good day.' He strode past Carillo and her undeserving husband, this time unencumbered by Cleon. 'Well ta-ta then! I do hope you'll drop by some time, Cleon is a dreadful bore these days!' Carillo announced gaily, in a voice that surely was heard across half of Queenscove.

It's a crappy chapter I know. Sorry for turning Cleon into a complete jerk. It's a necessary sacrifice.            


	4. Tortallan Dance

Keladry stared into the ornate gilded mirror. Her gaze depicted a tall, muscular woman being fussed and exclaimed over by simpering maids. Kel didn't know how Lalasa tolerated them all day, every day. She had said as much to her former maid, who had admitted their stupidity, but sent them to Queenscove with Kel all the same. "They're very good at sewing." Had been her excusing remark. The amount of orders she was receiving meant Lalasa the Dressmaker was extremely busy, even so, she would have made time for Lady Kel had she not been commissioned for Shinkokami's gown. Kel smiled in pride of Lalasa… the grin disappeared as the plumper of the two maids started whispering to the other.

'Her waist is far too wide…'

The ends of Kel's lips quirked at the comment that would have sent any other Tortallan noblewoman into a screeching rage- much of the Yamani was in her still. The dumpy maid cast a furtive glance in her direction and her eyes darted about the room nervously when she saw the Lady Knight looking in her direction. Kel sighed and returned to her contemplation of her image. In true Yamani fashion she wore only small, yet costly amounts of jewellery wrought of rose-quartz and gold. Her gown was coloured a blend of a light pink and a soft fawn colour, it suited her very well. The sleeves were not sleeves at all, but fluttering fabric, this irked Kel to no end. The whole thing fit perfectly, not at all snug about her stomach, Kel attributed this to the tailoring of the maids, she _was_ thick waisted. However, a certain dark haired man of the King's Own saw it not as a flaw in her image, rather part of her own style. But Kel was not to know that.

Tonight was to be the first of two engagement balls, this one in the traditional Tortallan manner. Neal had grumbled incessantly about the balls, and receptions, and all the functions he must attend, they were, quote "A waste of money and effort!" Kel thought it rather the time to be spent not marrying Yuki, that agitated him. Kel was, in all probability, correct.

Every Lady entered separately, to stand alone in one moment of glory… or so the theory went. Only those married or betrothed entered escorted, so it was as Kel entered the Great Hall of the Duke of Queenscove. The Lady Knight Keladry descended the Lesser Stairs moving with a warrior's grace, dressed in a ladies ball-gown. The effect should have been comical, yet it was not. More, it was the stuff of tales a century dead, recently dredged up; distaffs once more roamed the land, protecting the small… Lady Knights were real once again. This idea was fairly new, only a decade or so old, and thus Kel's entrance caused a hush of the chatter, almost everyone's thoughts roving in the same direction, save Dom. Dom did not see the Lady Knight Keladry as an anomaly to be gawked at, no, to him Kel would forever be bliss embodied. She was beautiful, certainly, but not a freak to gawp at. Cleon too was focused on Kel, though his thoughts were not of adoring admiration but of suppressed longing. The intensity of his desire was frightening, he had thought Kel would gently fade from his mind, that he could grow to love Carrillo… but such was not the case.

At the end of the stairs Kel rested her hand on Dom's, and allowed him to guide her to the dance floor, Cleon glowered unnoticed.

Kel had not participated in the page's dance lessons; Wyldon had proclaimed it a waste to teach her men's steps, and too distracting for the males if a real live girl practised in their arms. Thus Kel did not have extensive experience in Tortallan dancing to prepare her for the night's festivities. _I suppose I will must trust to Dom, and take him through the paces at the Yamani engagement ball._ Kel suited actions to words, hoping she would not stumble overly and embarrass herself. Dom led her through the dance with considerable skill, making idle chatter.

Both Kel and Dom were enjoying themselves immensely, and not a little of this was attributed to the being with each other.

'Kel, I need to talk to you. In private. Will you walk in the gardens with me?'

Kel had assented, of course. The two strolled through the scented moonlit gardens silently as Dom considered how to put what he wanted in words._ What I say must be said perfectly, no mistakes… _Eventually he gave up, and spoke from his heart.

'I am going to be utterly honest and not adorn my words.' Kel had never known Dom to fill his speech with flowery phrases, even she now perceived that something important disturbed him. The knight glanced at her friend of these many years; the tall, dark man who had shared times with her in her squires years of the Own. She loved him, in a way. _What could it be that bothered him?_ _Could she help?_

Kel, I like you, very much.'


	5. All My Love

Kel's ears began to ring, and her heart plunged into ice. Three little words resounded through her head _'I like you.' _ Dom did not mean anything but in the romantic sense, he had feelings for her beyond friendships bounds, and she did not return them… How would she tell this man with his dolefully blue-eyes turned to her brimming in trust and hope and so much liking… how would she tell him she didn't return those feelings? Kel knew she once had, when she was a squire she began to melt at his sparkling smile rather than his cousin Neal's. But she loved him no more, now…

'Dom, I-' Kel faltered.

That was an answer in itself. Kel, his light and love, his joy did not care for him in return. Dom's eyes became dull and dark, his face sagged and his shoulders dropped. Life seemed to seep out of his skin. _She does not love me. _Dom felt his world falling away, leaving him forever in a dreary empty world, pain and despair were his only companions, no light would ever touch him here.

'Oh.' The small sound escaped his lips, in it carrying all the despair his heart held.

'Dom, I do care for you, I love you even,' Kel was unaware of the cruelty she dealt Dom, giving his heart reason to rise, when it was inevitable that Kel must send it sinking to the depths.

'I-' Kel's sentence that would have rendered Dom's heart into a shattered thing of the past, was cut short as a scream shot through the summer's scented air.

All through the gardens lovers tumbled from various places in the bushes, and into positions that made the noble ladies blush.

The shriek of pain and astonishment was coming from the hall, who was being attacked? And in the heart of the Duke's hall?

Kel and Dom did not hesitate, rising simultaneously. Neither of them carried any weapons, and Kel was clothed in this cursed encumbering dress, but nevertheless the two ran together to the defence of a victim. Inside people were rushing anywhere and everywhere not quite sure where to go but trying to get there all the same. Mass discombobulation (A/N my apologies for 'mass discombobulation' I simply _have _to add that phrase in, now that I've remembered it) reigned with chaos in its wake. Kel was not so foolish as to run into this commotion, more likely she'd add to the situation rather than resolve it.

'Silence! I command silence!' King Jonathon's magically enhanced voice quelled all but the screecher, and with the hush the aimless rush stopped. Jonathon strode down from the dais, towards one of the lesser tables were the howling woman was bent double in pain.

Dom had frozen for a moment at his king's command, but his pain was a lash whipping the tender most places of his soul. He roared his torment, and masked it as anger. He ripped one of the blunt edged ornamental swords from the wall and, frothing, he charged.

The Masbolle family could trace every member of its household back to a legendary warrior from the Age of War. Many of those daring men and women were famed as courageous fighters, but in truth, they had been slightly mad and prone to fly off the handle with any intense emotion. Generations of peace and gentle doings and docile court behaviour had quelled that blood, but not extinguished the flame. It lurked still, and that night reared its ugly head for all to see in the good and charming Dom.  He was heedless of the horrified gasps, and the repeated attempts to restrain him. Dom had one simple thought amonst the channelled pain. _Kill the menace. _

DUN DUNN DUNN….. tell me what do you think of this chapter, good or bad? Sorry for turning Dom into a psychopath, he'll get over it I swear.


End file.
